


Dependency

by writerdot



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 01:03:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerdot/pseuds/writerdot
Summary: Missing scene from 8x16, meant to fill the time after the prank is revealed and before pizza at Wilson's.





	

“I’m hungry. Feed me.”

Wilson ignores him, shrugging on his jacket as he strides purposefully out of his office, leaving House standing in the doorway watching him go.

For about half a second anyway. It’s not too long before Wilson can hear the step-thump sound of House following him to the elevators.

“So…” House drawls. “How long are you going to be pissed at me for this?”

Wilson swallows hard, grips the briefcase in his hand and presses the down button, just as he can see House step up beside him out of the corner of his eye.

House correctly interprets his silence as an answer. “Okay, then. Look, I know you. I get that one brother is a drunk, one is in the psych ward, your parents are in a state of…blissful ignorance…and you…”

“Have you for a best friend,” Wilson mutters without thinking, then curses himself for speaking at all. The elevator opens and he steps in. House, of course, follows him.

“Well, given that I am the paragon of best-friend-hood-“ Wilson snorts at this, which House studiously ignores. “-I can see how that might be too much for you.”

Determined to continue with his silent treatment for as long as he possibly can, Wilson takes a deep breath as the elevator continues its descent. He’s walking to his car a few minutes later, six-foot-two of stubborn, annoying, diagnostician following him determinedly.

“Would if help if I said I was…”

And Wilson can’t help but stop and whirl to face him, interrupting him mid-sentence. “Sorry? No, it wouldn’t. Because it wouldn’t be true.”

House fiddles with his cane, looks away briefly and Wilson wonders if he’s imagined that glint of guilt in House’s eyes, but it’s gone before he can dwell on it.

“Well, I was going to say…you know what?” House leans against the passenger side door as Wilson walks around to the driver’s. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”

Another deep breath and Wilson’s unlocking the door with the key, stalling, because half of him wants to say something, half of him wants to run away and he’s not sure which part to give into.

“Say it.”

Wilson averts eyes as he hears the tell-tale sound of the door unlocking. “What?”

“Whatever you want.”

“House, for God’s sake…”

“You’re still standing here, Wilson.”

Wilson blows out an explosive breath, leans against the car and his grip on the car keys so tight, it nearly leaves an impression, and says, “What if I’d actually…developed feelings for this kid?”

House regards him carefully. “Then I’d say you were developing feelings for an idea.”

Wilson laughs in humorous disbelief and decides he’s finally had enough for tonight. He opens the door quickly, giving into the instinct to run, and gets in. But before he can lock the door and start the car, House, of course, is already in the passenger seat.

Wilson shakes his head. It seems like the last couple of years have only highlighted the fact that House seems too fast for him these days. It makes him feel like he’s never going to be able to keep up again.

“Wilson, you didn’t know him.” The It wasn’t even real doesn’t need to be said.

“Yeah?” Wilson snaps, shoving the key into the ignition. “Well, I wanted to know…damn it, it could have been…”

He stops, clears his throat, but doesn’t say anymore, because, son of a bitch, House is right. Again.

“An idea,” House reiterates.

Wilson leans his forehead against the window. “I’ll probably never know what any of that is like for real. Having a kid, getting to know him.”

House shrugs, his cane sliding between open palms. “Maybe.”

You don’t want it to happen, Wilson thinks at House as he steps on the brake, his hand going to slide the car into gear. He doesn’t say it, though, because otherwise he would have to admit to that small part of him that agrees. The relief he’d felt in his office flows through him again and he ignores the voice in his head that tells him that it wouldn’t be necessary for him to feel the need to cling to that relief if House wasn’t…House.

The car shifts into drive with a click and he steers out of his space. The silence is deafening and Wilson hates it.

“I have left over pizza ingredients.”

House looks over at him, Wilson can feel it, but he keeps his eyes on the road.

He doesn’t need to be looking at House to see him grin. “Sounds good.”

“And you’re going to fill me in on the details of this ridiculous scheme.”

"All right,” House agrees readily.

Wilson grips the wheel and shakes his head as he merges onto the freeway.

“By the way,” he says, and waits until he knows House is looking at him again. “You’re still an ass.”

House chuckles. “Yeah. So you’ve said.”


End file.
